


Hum

by brinnybee



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinnybee/pseuds/brinnybee
Summary: It’s as lazy a Sunday morning as they ever seem to manage. Meaning it’s 7:16 AM and Link’s already wrist-deep in washing-up.





	Hum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linksugiecookerneal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksugiecookerneal/gifts).



It’s as lazy a Sunday morning as they ever seem to manage. Meaning it’s 7:16 AM and Link’s already wrist-deep in washing-up after breakfast with a now-lukewarm mug of coffee on the counter near his left elbow. The sun is up but obscured by a veil of gray promising rain, muting the world.

Rhett’s long fingers pluck up the abandoned mug with practiced ease, taking three strides to cross a distance he could make in two. Deposited in the microwave, he sets it to reheat. The beeping and subsequent hum of the appliance prompt Link to turn a grateful smile to the taller man.

But he finds Rhett already closer than he expects, the edge of his glasses colliding with a bristly chin. It prompts a more melodious hum from Rhett than the microwave ever manages, bubbling over a laugh that never quite blooms. Said bristly chin drops to Link’s shoulder a moment later as he settles in behind the dark-haired man, then curls his arms comfortably around him. Close enough to be cozy, affectionate. Loose enough to let Link continue with the dishes, leaning back against a warm chest.

Rhett hums something now-- some melody and Link knows it immediately but deigns not make it a duet just yet-- nose bumping the velvet-soft skin behind Link’s ear. Something old and sweet, something once listened to through the tinny speakers of an old pickup. 

It’s as lazy a Sunday morning as they ever seem to manage. 

And it’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> but I  
> I love it when you sing to me  
> and you  
> you can sing me anything  
> <3


End file.
